


Dinner & Diatribes

by AphoticW



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alcohol Usage, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Artist Katsuki Yuuri, Bartender Katsuki Yuuri, Christophe Giacometti & Victor Nikiforov Friendship, Complicated Relationships, Everyone Is Gay, Gay Katsuki Yuuri, Gay Victor Nikiforov, Los Angeles, Love Story, Lust at First Sight, M/M, Marijuana usage, Name spelled as viktor, New York City, Piercings, Pining Victor Nikiforov, Rich Victor Nikiforov, Romantic Comedy, Romantic Fluff, Social Media, Some Lies, Substance Abuse, Suits, Tattooed Katsuki Yuuri, Tattoos, Travel, Victor spelled with a k, Will add characters as I go, Yuuri Katsuki with Piercings, cursing, finding yourself, miscommunications, will tag as I go
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-01
Updated: 2019-04-23
Packaged: 2019-11-07 09:29:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17957933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AphoticW/pseuds/AphoticW
Summary: Viktor Nikiforov is at the top of his game. Being a financial advisor in New York City has it perks--like the enormous paycheck he never complains about. However, after some quips about his dull life from Christophe Giacometti, his best friend, he is whisked away to the sunny West Coast on an impromptu week long trip.There was never time for anything in his hectic life because he refused to make time for it with such a considerable weight on his shoulders. Not until a Japanese man with a few ill-advised piercings/tattoos, looks that could slay a man, and a unique voice that pierces Viktor's soul enters his life in a whirlwind of song and extraordinary adventure.Modern AU/Romantic Comedy/Some Hurt&Comfort





	1. Keep Yourself Alive

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! I'm back again with another full length story. I don't really know how long it will be. This story is very loosely based on a section from my VERY early twenties. Aspects are of the story are obviously stretched for fiction, but I'll add little notes if throughout about it. 
> 
> Rating my change as well if I decide to add more risky stuff later on. 
> 
> Story is named after the Hozier song that I cannot get out of my head.
> 
> I hope you guys enjoy this more uplifting AU to my Mafia AU.

“We’re getting married, and we just want to make sure we are both at a sturdy place.” 

He couldn’t roll his eyes harder at the statement as he examined the document pulled up on his computer. The considerable numbers passed by him not really registering in his brain. He already knew the damages that the couple would be facing. The brilliant light of the monitor burned through to the back of eyes and he blinked a few times furiously as he glanced away. 

He caught the gaze of Ms. Yang, and she averted her eyes almost immediately. He could feel them the entire time at on him once she entered the grand office. She shamelessly didn’t hide the way she observed at him. He toyed with her a bit with flashing her a dashing smile every now and then when he had the chance to.

“Ms. Yang, have you discussed your finances with Mr. Leroy before?” He mused as he sat back. He laced his nimble fingers over his suit clad stomach. He had to fight the urge to smile smugly at the engaged couple. 

There was a storm coming, and he couldn’t wait to be witness of it. 

He was going to lose this client most likely, but he knew the damning information he was about to slam on them was going to be worth it. 

“Uh, no, we haven’t had any reason to discuss it before.” Her man said. 

Viktor chuckled gleefully as he pressed a few keys on his rather rackety keyboard. Pages spewed from the printer next to him, and he skirted them forward towards the couple.

“Your fiancée has a racked up a bit of debt. Primarily credit cards. Lots of designer dresses and shoes charged to at least seven different credit card accounts.” He adequately explained. He snatched his cup of coffee from and took a idle slip as he observed.

The mix of considerable confusion and shock as Mr. Leroy pursued the pages— _pages_ of credit card debt from his soon-to-be wife. 

Said fiancée had her hands in face as her leg bounced wildly. Leroy was still going over each statement after last before she turned to him tears edging out of the corner of her eyes. Eager hands latching to his arm she shook her head furiously.

“This is why I didn’t want to come here! Daddy was going to help me pay it all off before the wedding. I swear!” 

Leroy calmly set the papers back down towards Viktor, and he gladly accepted them. He hammered them against his desk to straighten them out. He would keep them in his file in case they miraculously returned. Leroy stood up from his chair and outstretched his hand towards Viktor.

“Thank you for taking the time with us today, Mr. Nikiforov. Hopefully, we will be returning once we figure _this_ out.” He said sternly as Viktor returned his hearty handshake. 

“As long as you still pay me for the two hours you were here!” Viktor joked with a fake laugh bubbling out of his throat. He wanted to cringe at the sound of his voice, but he held his composure. He eyes scanned over to the clock. He was right, two hours. 

Not like he wasn’t grossly overpaid in his generous salary, but he banked on those bonuses sometimes. That’s what got him his high rise in the heart of the city. 

The couple shuffled off with murmurs of a fight rising as they left his office. Once they were out of ear shot Viktor let out a chortle as he plopped the private papers into their file. He jammed them somewhere in his desk and figured he would spend the last ten minutes of his shift checking his phone. 

He was surprised to note a mass amount of texts from his longtime friend Christophe. He always tended to split up texts and not do detailed paragraphs. It irked Viktor slightly, but it was something so small he could get over. 

**Christophe Giacometti: [You must come with me this week!]**

**Christophe Giacometti: [V, I know you’re in a meeting, but you have to answer me!]**

**Christophe Giacometti: [V]**

**Christophe Giacometti: [Cheri, call me.]**

Viktor was taken back from his messages, so he deftly dialed Christophe’s number, and it picked up on the second ring.

_“Viktor! Thank the gods!”_

“What’s wrong, Chris? This couldn’t wait until I was finished for the day?” Viktor mumbled as he picked some lint off his pressed suit. He was already planning what suits he was going to take to the dry cleaners in the morning. As Christophe recovered his breath, Viktor started detailing out his weekend in his head.

 _“No! I need you to get on Expedia right now and book a flight to Los Angeles. You’re going away with me for the week.”_

Viktor groaned as he swiveled in his chair lazily.

“Chris—”

 _“No! I know how much you make, cheri. Hell, if you weren’t so boring and I wasn’t loaded too, I’d be your sugar baby. I know you can afford to come with me.”_

“You would be the crabbiest sugar baby I’d ever have.” Viktor chuckled delightedly as he sandwiched the phone between his shoulder and ear. He started properly packing his briefcase. “And I have a lot of stuff to do this weekend. Not like I can just pick up and go fuck off with you in LA.” 

_“No! You are not getting out of this one. All you do is work and complain how boring your job is now that you are head of your division. Viktor, in the ten years I’ve known you, you haven’t had an ounce of fun.”_

“Hey! I went clubbing with you at Amore.” 

_“Oh, sweetie, Amore has been closed for six years.”_

Had it genuinely been that long? 

Viktor pondered on that night, and he instantly remembered leaving early because he had to take Makkachin to the groomers. 

“I can’t find someone to watch Makkachin so quickly. I—”

 _“I can take care of everything, V. Meet for coffee around the block in five? I’ll explain more.”_

Viktor sighed as he waltzed over to the door of his office. He let his hand come out to flick the light switches off and turned back to look at his office. Lights from the city flickered in the window behind his desk and bounced off the transparent walls. His cage is what Chris called it. Viktor originally had brushed off the comment, but as he stared at the room the thought became more present in his mind.

_“V?”_

“Yeah, I’ll meet you at Oak City Café in a few.” 

With that he cancelled the call and went over to his executive secretary. He was busy banging away at his keyboard finishing up the last bit of emails for the day. He leaned his hip on the polished desk as he inspected his monitor. Boring email after email. He remembered when he had to slave over emails like him. He almost imploded from the mediocrity of the job, but at least someone had seen something in him. 

“Kenjirou, I want you to send an email to Mr. Feltsman. Tell him I’m taking an impromptu weekend off and I am not to be contacted. Also, that I will be taking a vacation next week so please have all my appointments forwarded to Crispino.” Viktor explained as he pocketed his phone. 

The young man jerked his head up to his boss and had a look of awe struck across his features. If he would just lose the terrible dye job and wear proper clothes maybe he would be recognized. However, he was a talented worker that Viktor refused to let go. He couldn’t lose an asset.

“Uh, are you well, Mr. Nikiforov?” 

“Yes, why do you ask?”

Kenjirou fidgeted in his seat and yanked nervously on the sleeves of his button-up. “Just the three years I’ve worked for you, you’ve never taken a vacation. I figured it must be something important then.” 

“I’m fine, Kenjirou. If Mr. Feltsman asks for a reason tell him it’s personal and he can reach out to me.” Viktor said before promptly turning on his heel and making his way towards the elevator doors. His department all tracked his movements as he left for the day and let his shoulder slump as he rode the lift down sixty floors. 

Fortunately, the coffee shop was only a block away, so it wasn’t a far walk. 

True to his word Christophe had already procured a private table and was gesturing him over. 

Once he was seated, he flattened his floral tie to his chest and delivered the steaming coffee to his lips. Black coffee, just how he liked it. Christophe was good for some things; he supposed. Christophe was still fiddling with his mobile phone and flung it down abruptly with a wry smile across his face. 

“We leave tonight! I have a trusted sitter for your apartment. Ticket is already purchased, you owe me 2,800 bucks for your seat.”

Viktor choked on his fragrant coffee as the phone was passed to him across the table. First class seats. Typical of Christophe. The man could also afford such liberties since he was regarded as one of the top fashion magazine editors of modern times.

He was decked out in Chris-like fashion in a well-tailored suit and a purple tie clutching his throat. Christophe often dressed Viktor to his liking, and it was an enormous help once Viktor moved up in the ranks at his company.

The two had met in college. They naturally gravitated towards each other over the shared fear of being in a foreign country. Christophe had been another worldly being in college while Viktor diligently slaved over papers and extensive exams. Viktor sighed and scooted the phone back towards him.

“What are we even going there for?” 

“A concert. I’ve been talking with the guitarist from this band.” 

“Oh, and you want to go meet him? Please tell me this isn’t another Chad situation.” 

“No! Masumi is different! We actually have been talking for a few months.”

“What? And you haven’t told me?” 

“V, we barely see each other as is. You’re all cramped up in your stuffy apartment just doing nothing!”

Viktor almost let a growl escape his throat, but he held it back. He fixed his posture and leaned harder into the back of the wooden chair. There was kink in his back and the sturdy chair felt good against his worn muscles. 

“So, a musician, huh?” 

“He’s like a breath of fresh air. He’s fun, exciting, and has got an ass I can bounce a quarter off of.” Chirstophe said with a far off look in his glittering eyes. Viktor reached over to wave his hand rapidly in front of his friend’s face. The Swiss musically laughed it off as he swatted Viktor’s hand away. 

“Chris, I don’t know. This isn’t really like me to just go off like you do. My secretary even asked me if there was something wrong with me because I was taking a vacation.”

Christophe reached over and laid his hand on top of Viktor’s own. He gave it a gentle squeeze and promptly caught Viktor’s contemplative gaze.

“Just once don’t you want to be different? Viktor, you’re killing yourself being like this. I have an idea.” Chirstophe said as he yanked his hand away. 

“What’s your big plan? Last time you had one you ended up stranded in Colorado and I had to get you a private helicopter in the mountains.”

“My ideas are great! Anyway, let’s do something a bit different. Let’s go to Los Angeles and not act like our normal selves.”

Viktor scoffed and crossed his brawny arms over his chest. “What do you mean ‘not our normal selves’?”

“Masumi doesn’t know what my job is. I told him I was bringing a buddy. They wouldn’t know a thing, Viktor. I can tell Masumi later, but we just be really vague about our lives back here.” Christophe had that glint in his eye. It was the gleam that Viktor knew was bad news, but Viktor was tired. 

He was pushing thirty, and all he had to say for himself was his empty luxury apartment, a rack of clothing that was starting to look all the same, and boring job that gave him enough money in the world.

So, why wasn’t he doing _anything_ with it?

“Screw it, let’s do it.”


	2. Don't Stop the Music

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Did Masumi say anything about him? He seems to know him.” Viktor fired the question at Christophe.
> 
> “Yeah,” Christophe tried holding back a chuckle. “He and Masumi know each other very well.” 
> 
> “So, there’s a chance?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, first off. I have no excuse for being gone for so long. I am so sorry. I have been constantly thinking about this story but DID NOT have the time until now with traveling. So I tried to make it as long as I could for y'all. I promise I have a plot for this story. I hope y'all enjoy! :D

The flight couldn't have been more eventful. Seated next to a wailing child and a snoring Christophe, Viktor got no rest during the flight. Christophe stated he was packing for him so sent him off to do the duty of securing them a place to stay. Fortunately, Viktor had a substantial collection of travelers points to get them set up in a modest hotel for the week. Christophe claimed they couldn't go with the lavish wants of their heart and had to let Viktor hook them up in normal Holiday Inn.

Heaving the all too heavy bag that Christophe packed for him Viktor followed diligently behind his companion. LAX was rather packed since it was the start to the week. Viktor stood next to Christophe and he felt anxiety climbing up his spine as he looked at rental car prices. Christophe had been taking a reasonably lengthy time fiddling with his luggage before Viktor heaved the bag over his muscled shoulder.

"Chris, come on. It's ten at night, and I feel jetlag sinking in. I want to go to sleep." Viktor grumbled as he took off towards the exit.

Christophe promptly followed Viktor's grueling pace, and he jogged up to stand next him as they walked out of the airport. The shuttle was starting to pile up with people, so Viktor immediately headed towards it.

"V, hold up. Just relax, man."

"We have to get a rental car and make it to the hotel."

"No! Wait, let's just get an uber."

"I checked the website and they only have a pickup truck left to rent." Viktor completely ignored Christophe's words as they stood among the thralls of people.

"We are not hillybillying it up in a pickup truck." Christophe said as he pulled up an application on his phone. Viktor rolled his eyes as he leaned against a pillar to wait for their ride. He wasn't quite thrilled with the idea of not having transportation for the week besides taxis. After a few moments Christophe pocketed his phone and posted up with Viktor.

"About ten minutes."

"Thank God," Viktor muttered as he crossed his arms. The fierce Los Angeles heat was starting to creep up on him, and he could feel the sweat starting to bead up on the back of his neck. Christophe had let him wear a tracksuit on the plane since Viktor detested being uncomfortable on long flights. He unzipped his jacket as Christophe stared at the incoming traffic.

"We're going to this club tonight after we get to the hotel and change." Christophe stated as he craned his neck to glance at the vehicles.

"Why?" Viktor groaned. "I worked all day. You drag me across the country, and now I have to go to some dingy club?"

"Masumi is going to be there. He said there was a special show going on tonight." Christophe explained eagerly with a wave of his hand. "This whole trip comes with you not being a wet blanket, V. Masumi just wants to meet for a drink and that's it. Tomorrow is his concert."

Viktor gently scratched the back of his neck and sighed profoundly. He wasn't expecting such a whirlwind of events already right after landing. He just wanted to go to his hotel room and soak in the bathtub like he would've done when he got home. Soon enough a horn was honking, and a very adamant man was signalling them over. Christophe picked up both his bags this time and rushed over to the uber.

The ride was rather boring besides the length it took them to get to the hotel. With every slam of the brakes, Victor gritted his teeth and felt more annoyance building up. If he was going out tonight, he was going to need a strong drink or twelve.

Once they were dropped off at their Holiday Inn Viktor spent a horrible twenty minutes trying to check in. The woman was rather curt with him and had taken rather long to run his credit card and his identification. Once she handed over the keycards, he made a dash for their room so he could finally unpack. Christophe was busy on his cellphone as Viktor hung all his clothing up in the private closet.

Christophe placed his phone on charge and announced he was going to use the shower and instructed Viktor pick his outfit for the evening. 

“Nothing too uppity! Just throw on a pair of jeans and shirt.” Christophe tutted as he retreated to the bathroom. Once the hiss of the shower reverberated off the dull walls Viktor perused through his clothing options. 

Christophe mentioned he didn’t pack anything too flamboyant, but he still had a sense of style. There were a few t-shirts littered throughout the closet, and the numerous amounts of jeans Christophe packed made Viktor roll his eyes. He wasn’t the type to really wear them. It was either chinos or sweatpants. No in between. 

He snatched the pair of dark wash jeans and a turquoise polo from the rack. The only thing that Christophe had let him pack was his socks. He unzipped his hanging undergarments bag and filtered through all the printed socks. It was a thing that had started in college between the two men. It turned into a contest of sorts who could wear the most ridiculous printed socks. 

He carefully selected the navy-blue pair with little poodles on them and threw on the bed with his attire. He pulled out a brown ankle boot and a belt to match. Once he dressed, he let the short bottom of the polo rest just slightly over his belt so that the garment was showing just a bit. 

He recalled why he hated polos so much. Cuffed sleeves. He tried jamming his finger in between the fabric to loosen the hold on his biceps, but there was no use. It was so uncomfortable against his skin. He was about to dig through the closet for another option when Christophe strutted out of the bathroom in all his nude glory.

“Mon cheri, stop fucking with it. That’s how it’s supposed to look. Look at those gorgeous biceps.” Christophe said cheekily as he snapped the cuff while walking past. Viktor rolled his eyes turned to the mirror to brush back his hair just a smidge. 

“What kind of club is this? Am I going to have to wear earplugs?” 

“Are you sixty years old?”

“I feel like it.” 

Christophe was already dressed in record time. Paid to be a model at one point in your life. He was used to getting dressed under time constraints. He was wearing a sheer ebony long sleeve with the sleeves pushed up his forearms. Viktor could see every cut of his muscles, and it was remarkably ‘Christophe’. He had on far too much valuable jewelry, but Viktor just linked it to the current fashion. Christophe donned his oversized glasses and instantly flashed a pearly smile at Viktor.

“The club is a ten-minute walk. Let’s get going.” 

They hustled down to the lobby and out the sliding doors to streets of Los Angeles. 

The balmy air was still as humid as when they arrived, and it was something Viktor wasn’t used to. Growing up in Russia, he had adapted to the frigid conditions, and it made it even easier to bare through New York City winters. It was nothing compared to the tundra he had come from.  
He had been to Los Angeles once. A business convention he was dragged to when he first started with his company. The hotel bar and the man pouring had been his sole company the entire time. 

“The club is right up here. Masumi said to just go to the front of the line and say his name.” Christophe broke his train of thought as the started moving past the thralls of people waiting. A few of them gave dirty looks as they sauntered leisurely up to the bouncer. 

He was stoic man; he didn’t even acknowledge them when they stood before him. The bouncer turned on his heels at the sound of Christophe snapping with his arms crossed and carefully surveyed the men before him. 

“The line is back there.”

“We’re here for Masumi.”

“You must be Chris, right?”

“Yes, and my plus one.” Christophe stated as he pointed at Viktor. Viktor willingly gave a fake smile back at the bouncer. The guard let them in within moments, and they were hurled to the sounds of the bass. 

A pop song was blaring through the speakers with a charming woman whispering the lyrics in her sultry voice. The club was packed with what felt like everyone in a twenty-mile radius. Viktor noted a few distinctive flags hanging from the walls. They were LGBTQ flags. They swayed rhythmically with the bump of the music, and it soothed Viktor’s nerves a bit. 

He wasn’t so much open about his sexuality. Christophe knew, and most of his close friends, but he really didn’t advocate it at work. It honestly aided him in some of his cases to turn on the charm with female customers. He wasn’t ashamed of who he was, he just didn’t think it was something he inherently had to announce. He was gay and didn't give a fuck who cared. 

Christophe had planted that seed with him in college. His whole life in Russia he had been hiding the fact from his family, but once he was in America, he noted the dynamic change. He didn’t need to necessarily hide as much. It wasn’t like he didn’t experience hatred, but it was more manageable. 

He whirled his head around attentively examining all the people around him. Lots of them seemed incredibly drunk, but everyone was ravenously dancing to the music pounding through the speakers. It sparked a bit of happiness within himself to see these people so carefree. His feet itched towards the dance floor, but his mind reared him back. He needed a drink first. He hadn’t danced since . . .

“Viktor! Over here!” Christophe hollered over the lively music. Viktor promptly caught Christophe’s emerald eyes and nodded as he moved past people to get to the bar. He huffed heavily once he planted his forearms on the counter. He tilted his head to the side to see the man he had been hearing all about on the flight here. 

He was quite attractive with long brunette hair. His pleasant voice was deep with confidence as he introduced himself to Viktor. He took Masumi’s hand in a firm grip and grinned knowingly as he shook his hand.

“So nice to finally meet you!” Masumi shouted over the crowd. He turned to the bar and said something to Christophe as he pointed behind Viktor. Viktor cocked his head in confusion and leaned forward to Christophe.

“What are you drinking? First round on me.” Viktor stated. 

“Masumi is sober. I’ll have a Manhattan, but you’ll have to fight for the bartender’s attention.” 

“What do you mean by that?”

“Look.” Christophe physically turned Viktor’s head, so he could look behind himself. 

Viktor squinted to see at the end of the bar, the bartender. He couldn’t quite make out his unique features, but what he was doing was astonishing. 

He was juggling ice cubes between the ice shovel and a cup at miraculous speed for a group of energetic women. All the while he was making conversation with them like he wasn’t doing anything with his hands. The girls squealed when he bounced one off the glass into the opening of her floral shirt. He flung his head back to laugh and proceeded to finish preparing their drinks. Once he distributed them, he glanced down the rest of the bar, and Viktor finally caught direct eye contact with him. 

He was tan, Viktor could tell. The dazzling lights of the club glared off his sweat glistened skin. His smile was sloppy as he swayed gracefully over to the beat of the song. It was like he was one with the music as he mouthed the lyrics on his way over. As he drew closer Viktor could tell he had a few piercings across his face. He had a very minimal piercing in his left nostril but had long piercings through his ears. They were ebony like the rest of his outfit. Viktor didn’t know what they were called, but he could imagine the pain it probably took to stretch his ears like that. 

The man finally made it to their group and brushed his raven hair from his brilliant eyes. He kept smiling that lopsided grin and leaned over the bar to let his musical voice be heard.

“Masumi, I didn’t know you were bringing company.” The man shouted over the infectious beat.

Masumi leaned forward as he grabbed the bartender’s shirt to tow him closer. “This is Chris! The guy from New York I was telling you about!” 

The man’s amber eyes lit up behind his blue rimmed glasses. He chuckled delightedly as he pulled back from Masumi’s grip.

“And his friend?” 

Viktor leapt up and outstretched his hand eagerly.

“Viktor Niki—just uh, call me, V.” 

“Nice to meet you, V.” The bartender said as he shook his hand with a light hand. His hands were coarse against the smooth expanse of Viktor’s skin. “My name is Yuuri. What will you have?” 

Viktor was so smitten by the lilt of his voice that he practically didn’t hear what he said. 

“Uh, whiskey!”

Yuuri chuckled as he finally removed his hand from Viktor’s grasp. “What brand, muscle man?” 

“Excuse me?”

“Your preferred brand. Jack, Jim . . . or?”

“Oh no, I was referring to your nickname for me.” Viktor said with his mouth slightly ajar as Yuuri reached behind him to snatch a bottle of whiskey. He didn’t wait for Viktor’s answer and poured from a Jack Daniels bottle.

“With arms like those . . . I’m sure you’re all muscle.” Yuuri said over the music as he filled a cup with the intoxicating drink. 

Okay, Viktor could do this. Foremost, he didn’t even know if the man was gay. Viktor figured since he worked in such an LGBTQ friendly place there might be some wiggle room there. He just needed to turn his charm on. Yuuri was extremely attractive and clearly knew how to banter with customers. Who didn’t ever want to go home with the insanely sexy bartender? He was a bit rusty with his game, but hell, he could try. 

“No fancy trick for me then?” Viktor said with his best grin. He laced his fingers behind his head to flex his muscles the best he could. He caught sight of Yuuri’s eager eyes wandering to his biceps, and the slight increase of the bartender’s breathing. 

Definitely attracted to men, Viktor chuckled at his thought. 

Yuuri snatched a napkin from the counter and twirled it gracefully in the air. His hand came down at once however and caught the flying paper on the back of his hand. He flipped it and used his other hand to slam his drink down. He raised one of his eyebrows afterwards and promptly burst out laughing. 

“That wasn’t impressive at all. I’m wounded.” Viktor said as he scooted his drink closer to him.

“That’s all I got right now, muscle man. I have customers to attend to. I’ll check on you soon.” Yuuri replied before strutting away back to the other side of the bar. Viktor couldn’t help but tilt his head to examine his back as he moved away. Yuuri called him muscle man, but he could clearly detect the outline of each cut in his impressive physique. 

“Yo, V. Where’s my drink?” Viktor heard Christophe ask behind him. Christophe was drenched in his own sweat as he panted in his place. 

“Oh, fuck. Sorry, I forgot.” 

“You don’t even like whiskey.” Christophe said as he pointed at Viktor’s untouched drink.  
Viktor glanced back to his sweating drink. Fuck, he even knew that. He had panicked and ordered the first thing that had crossed his brain. He grabbed the drink and passed it off to Christophe to ease the Swiss man.

“You like Yuuri.” 

“What? No, we were just talking.”

“Cher, I’ve watched him the past few minutes just looking back at you with _bedroom_ eyes.”

Viktor sputtered as he tried turning back towards the bar. Christophe seized his shoulder and shifted him back around. He placed both his hands this time on his cheeks and shook the Russian’s face lightly. 

“We are here to have fun. If Yuuri is your fun, go after him, V.” Christophe stated as he pulled away. Viktor craned his neck to see if Yuuri was still serving other customers. When the bartender reached a bit higher than he likely could reach, his shirt road up. Viktor could detect a hint of black ink littering his exposed skin. His eyes zeroed in on the visible tattoo, and he so badly wanted to see what was underneath that basic black Hanes shirt. 

“Did Masumi say anything about him? He seems to know him.” Viktor fired the question at Christophe.

“Yeah,” Christophe tried holding back a chuckle. “He and Masumi know each other very well.” 

“So, there’s a chance?”

“Cher, just get out of your own head for a minute.” Christophe said as he took a seat next to him. He took three big gulps from the glass and skimmed it back onto the bar top. “Yuuri is hot as hell. You're hot as hell. You pulled better ass than I did in college.”

“Because I have standards.”

“Now I didn’t say all of them were tens. You pulled some garbage monsters sometimes. Trust me, the moment Yuuri’s eyes locked on you I knew he was about whatever attracts people to your boring ass. Probably your blue eyes.”

“He called me muscle man.”

“See, I told you that damn polo was going to work. Next time he comes over ask for a difficult drink to make. Keep him busy.”

“I’ll order a drink I like this time.”

“Yeah and order me a fucking drink this time.”

Christophe danced away with a tilt of his hips as Viktor turned back to the bar. He tapped his fingers languidly to the beat of the song. He heard the song before. . . It had to be some Lady Gaga tune. He could tell by her thundering vocals. However, he wasn’t completely ready for the show down at the end of the bar. 

Yuuri was dancing divinely to the song. Not just swaying but strutting behind the bar while mouthing the lyrics. His shapely arms spun around his head as chanted out the lyrics. He let his finger tips laboriously drag against the polished wood of the bar as he passed by other patrons.

Viktor couldn’t overhear his voice, but his exotic dancing was vastly more entertaining now as he spun while pouring a drink high above the glass. Once he set the glass down, he slipped the rolled up twenty he was handed behind his ear. Yuuri followed Viktor’s gaze and smiled widely as he made his way over still moving to the song. He deposited the twenty into one of the tip buckets while walking past. He didn’t stop mouthing the lyrics until he was rested right in front of the Russian with his chin in his hands. 

“Downed that quite quickly, muscle man. What will you have next?” 

“I still owe you for the first one.” 

“Buy me a drink and we’re even for the first one.” 

Viktor quirked an expressive eyebrow. “Are you even allowed to drink at work?” 

“Alright, _Dad_. I can accept drinks as long as I can still do my job. I know the owner.” Yuuri replied easily with a wink as he kept gyrating his hips to the music. It was relatively distracting to Viktor. He could see Yuuri’s eyes flicker to the end of the bar once more to check on his other customers. He had to distract him and quickly. 

_Next time he comes over ask for a difficult drink to make._

Christophe’s words crossed his mind, and he came up with a plan. It was foolproof in college. 

“I’d like two shots of your highest shelf vodka, and. . . Sex with the Bartender.” Viktor cooed as he let one of his nimble fingers come out to trace the vein running across the top of Yuuri’s clammy hand. Yuuri didn’t even bat an eye but leaned forward with his eyes switching from soft to smoldering. He traced the harsh line of Viktor’s jaw as he drifted closer to the Russian. 

“Usually I have people ask me out on dates first.” 

Viktor sputtered as he flirted back with him. Usually, it turned most of the bartenders he used it on a blubbering mess. Yuuri’s lips turned up into a crooked smile once more, and he retreated to the bottles. He flipped one up dangerously into the air and caught it on his elbow. He balanced the bottle on his arm as he used his left to snatch all the glassware from underneath the bar. He laid out two shot glasses and used the momentum from his elbow to flip the bottle again.

Viktor held his breath as the horrendously expensive bottle whirled wildly through the air. Yuuri snatched it with a firm hand. His ring clanked against the glass as he did so.

Wait, ring?

Viktor zeroed in on the jewelry and saw that he did indeed have a ring on his right hand. It was customary in Russia to wear wedding rings on your right hand. Viktor’s face scrunched up as he scowled at the jewelry. 

Yuuri finished filling up the shots and instantly pushed one towards Viktor with his fingertips. 

Viktor didn’t want to outright ask if he was married. The band looked simple enough, and it had detailed little specks across it. It was actually a very elegant piece and probably cost a small fortune.

“I like your ring.” Viktor said over the rim of his shot.

Yuuri glanced down at his right hand and smiled politely. “Oh yeah, my bandmates all wear one. Kind of a good luck charm of sorts.” 

A rush of relief escaped Viktor’s lungs as he exhaled heavily. Good, he wasn’t taken to his knowledge. Viktor may be incredibly attracted to this man, but he was no scum. He didn’t want to be involved in breaking up a household. 

Viktor clinked his shot down to the bar top with Yuuri at the same time, and shotgunned the liquor down his throat. 

The burn was almost nonexistent thanks to the high price of the liquor. Yuuri cleaned up both glasses and went to work making another drink. Viktor was a confused for a moment and cocked his head at Yuuri.

“You said you wanted a ‘Sex with the Bartender’.” Viktor rolled his eyes at Yuuri’s comment and let him carry on making his drink. 

Viktor let Yuuri have his credit card after that so that he could start a tab. Yuuri spent most of his time running around behind the bar quickly to assist the patrons, but always made it back to Viktor to talk with him. Probably for a bit longer than he should have. 

Viktor hadn’t seen Christophe for a while and figured he would go outside to get a bit of air. Maybe he’d find Christophe off in the alley with his new found love. Christophe had a habit of leaving parties early in order to relieve himself. Viktor couldn’t remember how many times he had been abandoned at house parties with just a cup of warm beer and no way to get back into his house.

The club had died down respectively, and only a few people still moved across the dance floor. Once he was outside, he inhaled the dewy air and shut his eyes. 

Shit, that _actually_ had been fun. He realized he hadn’t even thought of work the entire time while he was under Yuuri’s company. The man had a way of melting all of Viktor’s surroundings and focusing his entire attention. Viktor had a hard time during most of their conversations hearing the words spilling from his mouth since he was so fixated on the curve of his lips or what other tattoos he might have.

Yuuri generally wasn’t his type. Viktor had always gone for boring, stuffy people in college. In college he had been a bit more carefree like Yuuri, but the when he switched his major to finances the undeniable happened and he became one of them. Christophe always joked that they fucked the fun out of Viktor in freshman year.

Viktor wanted to know more about Yuuri. He was like this enigma that he kept cracking layers away, and he had only known him for a few short hours. Maybe he could catch him before his shift ended. He was only in town for a short while and would really like to keep company he wouldn’t regret.

Viktor back tracked into the club while yanking his phone out from his back pocket. He had a text from Christophe from two hours ago. 

**[Went home with my mans. He lives on the other side of town. Enjoy the room with your bartender tonight. ;)]**

Viktor chuckled at the text as he posted back up at the bar and glanced around for Yuuri. He didn’t really see him around at all, and the club was close to being empty. He saw a man counting the drawers at the end of the bar, so Viktor made his way over to him. 

“Excuse me, I’d like to pay my tab.”

“Name?”

“Viktor,” 

“It’s taken care of.” The man replied with a slight smile.

“What do you mean?” 

“Your bartender got it for you. You can leave a tip if you want, however.” The man laughed as he leaned against the register with a cocky smile. Viktor grumbled as he yanked three twenties out of his pocket. He tossed them into the tip bucket.

“My bartender. Yuuri. Where did he go?” 

“He closed out about twenty minutes ago.” The man said easily. 

“Do you know when he will be bartending again?” 

“Not until next Friday, man. Sorry.”

Damn. He was so close too. 

He would have to ask Masumi in the morning. He wasn’t ready to give this up yet. Not when he could feel a genuine smile creep on his face for the first time in God knows how long. 

For now, he needed to find out how the fuck to get back to the hotel. 

His stomach growled horribly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off the chapter was named after Jamie Cullum's rendition of Don't Stop the Music, which Stephane Lambiel also skated to once.
> 
> When Viktor Enters the club: Lady Powers by Vera Blue, Kodie Shane  
> The song playing when he first walks over to Viktor, Christophe, and Masumi: I've Been Waiting by Lil Peep, ILoveMakonnen, Fall Out Boy  
> The Lady Gaga song was Judas. 
> 
> Sex with the Bartender recipe:  
> Mix rum, triple sec, lime juice, grenadine and 7-up. Garnish with lemon and lime, then splash Irish cream down the middle.
> 
> Thanks for sticking around and waiting for chapter 2 if you did. Once again sorry for the delay, we should be getting regular updates once more since my schedule has cleared up a bit. Thank you for all the kudos and comments, they fuel me! :D


	3. Tip of My Tongue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Smile more often. It’s beautiful.”
> 
> “I am smiling.” Viktor replied.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back to regular updates. This one is a bit shorter, but it's more of a filler. Hope y'all enjoy!

It didn’t take him long to find a dim café around the corner. The side street was quaint compared to the raucous behavior of the bar strip a few blocks away. It was a 24-hour joint, and a flickering sign above the walk way that read Cialdini’s. The windows were so dingy it was hard to properly see through the building. He shrugged as he pushed open the door and a tiny bell rang out as he entered. 

It was cramped inside with chairs almost on top of each other. There was a man sleeping behind the counter Viktor would rather not have make his food. He could see the greasiness of his hair from twenty feet away. There was the fast-paced sound of a guitar in the corner and someone singing harshly into the microphone. The sound system was that good, and it crackled with every high note from the singer. Their voice was laced with a bit of anger as Viktor turned to see the talented performer. His head was down as he strummed away on his matte black guitar. 

_“I act like I don’t fuckin’ care . . .”_ The explicit lyrics rang out as the man lifted his head. He glanced down to his guitar as he tapped away. However, Viktor squinted his eyes to see it was his bartender.

It was Yuuri. 

They both caught each other’s gaze as Yuuri kept playing and crooning his song. Viktor did notice the way he hiccupped during a lyric, but seamlessly reentered into the song. His face didn’t change much once they made eye contact, but his familiar voice grew relatively bolder. Viktor looked down to the floor and moved towards where Yuuri was performing. There was an vacant table in front of him, so he easily sat down in front of the musician to hear the rest of his song. 

The snores of the man behind the counter tried to drone out Yuuri’s song, but his lyrics powered through. 

_“Tell me pretty lies. Look me in the face. Tell me that you love me even though it’s fuckin’ fate.”_ Yuuri sang out now completely warped back into his performance as his feet stepped to the tune. Viktor was a bit taken back by his harsh lyrics, but listened none the less because he was. . .

Enthralling. 

He had never seen a performer like this before. His body moved with the music he made. His hands seemed like they were dancing gracefully on their own and his voice rang out all the profound emotions trapped in his head. Viktor could see this just from a glimpse of his song. Yuuri had said he was in a band, but Viktor didn’t expect this raw talent to stem from the man. Lots of people said they were in bands, but they never amounted to anything. Yuuri could make a name for himself. 

Viktor had once upon a time followed the path of music. Not many people were aware he had originally came to America to pursue a singing career. He had performed countless times in Russia as the lead in musicals especially once his voice aged and he developed a ranging tone. 

Christophe didn’t even know of Viktor’s true path when he came to America. 

Life had changed. Changed his path that he was going to take, but when his mind wandered like this, he told himself the change worth it. He had a fantastic apartment, a happy dog, and a semblance of a social life. His father would have been proud he gave up his path of music. Viktor didn’t have a tradiontal upbringing with being adopted, but he had respected his father in all ways until he chose music. 

His sweet mother, on the other hand, pushed him further and farther into the path he created for himself right up until the day that her husband died. Death altered many things and put Viktor on the direct path to his current lifestyle. The path that made him change his major and allow music dissipate into his past. 

Yuuri finished up his song a few seconds prior and was just staring at Viktor. Viktor came back to reality from his thoughts and crossed his legs as he leaned back. 

“A _real_ musician, huh?”

Yuuri chuckled to himself as he placed his guitar on the stand to relax in his seat. 

“I only solo perform here on Fridays when no one is here. I am involved with a few other bands.” Yuuri responded.

“Masumi’s band I’m guessing?” 

“Yes, I’m the lead vocals.” Yuuri leaned down to snatch a bottle of water and nervously twisted it in his hands before taking a few gulps. Yuuri was a bit different than he had been on the bar. One on one he seemed a bit shyer and more closed off. His eyes kept darting around the room and it made Viktor’s head dizzy. 

“You’re, um, different than at the bar.” Viktor stated as he uncrossed his legs and leaned forward.

“Oh! That. Yeah, I tend to get a bit wilder with spirits.” Yuuri brushed it off as he delicately picked the guitar back up to rest it on his lap. “I had a few drinks while bartending plus the more social you are, the more tips you get.”

“You aren’t wrong.” Viktor chuckled. So, he was more timid than Viktor had thought. He found it endearing how he flicked dust off his guitar and stumbled over his words slightly. This was more human than the Yuuri behind the bar.  
Viktor stands to walk up to Yuuri, and he so terribly wants to reach out and touch the man’s face. He can’t, though, they barely know each other. Viktor swears he barely knows himself. He keeps his hands to his side as his gaze follows the guitar. It’s sleek and has a few dents on the neck. 

A guitar is an extension of a musician’s arms and their mind, Viktor was once told. The way that Yuuri cradled the object with care. Almost like a lover. His experienced hands drifted down the strings light grinding against the metal as it sat next to him. He lifted the guitar back up into his lap, and his fingers drifted over the wood as he observed Viktor. 

“I liked your song.” Viktor murmured, and Yuuri laughed. He strummed on the guitar openly for a second.

“That song is shit.” 

“You wrote it?”

“Yeah, a while back.”

“It’s uh, emotional.” Viktor retorted as he retreated to see his seat. 

“Music is meant to be emotional. We wouldn’t have music without it.” Yuuri responded with a wave of his hand.

“What else were you planning on playing tonight?” Viktor ignores his statement. 

He can remember the sting of his trainers when they would bark at him to hit higher notes or to move easier as he sang. A trained singer had no room for mistakes.

Yuuri doesn’t even answer as he instantly begins strumming to another beat. Viktor thinks the song is missing something. He could hear violins roaring in his head to the tune as Yuuri started his lyrics. 

_“I was brought up with some hope of an—I’d get tired but never grow old of it.”_

This voice was unique. It was gentler and more what Viktor expected of Yuuri. Viktor couldn’t help but tap his palm against his thigh as he watched the man before him. His body swayed to the music he created, and Viktor was enamored in the way Yuuri would lean up to the microphone to push his emotions through. His fingers moved deftly across the frets, and the only noise was Yuuri and Yuuri alone.

Well, besides the grizzly bear snores from the man behind the counter.

Viktor didn’t expect to come to Los Angeles and meet someone like this. He expected party after party, and a rowdy concert he would have to fight to get through. This was tamer. It brought a rare smile to his face as he continued watching Yuuri perform.

_“All my hopes hang up on the ceiling! My friends are high, and I can’t keep up, I can’t keep up . . .”_ Yuuri finally opened his eyes and made direct eye contact with Viktor. Brown meeting icy blue, but Viktor’s face hurt so much from grinning away at Yuuri. 

Finally, his song was finished, and Yuuri panted. His chest heaved, and Viktor could hear the distant wheeze coming from his throat. Yuuri coughed a few times, and then cleared his throat. He set the guitar off to the side and stroked his tousled hair back. 

“Your smile. It’s different than before.” Yuuri said as he tilted his head to the side with a chuckle.

Viktor instantly put his hand up to his mouth to conceal it. He could feel his harsh stubble starting to break through and rubbed his hand against the hairs. Yuuri shook his head as he picked up the guitar gracefully and moved to place it on the wall next to him. Yuuri dusted off his hands on his faded jeans when moved back to where Viktor was sitting. 

“How long are you in town for?”

Viktor fiddled with a loose string on his jeans as he stood. “We fly back Friday night.”

“I’m surprised Christophe hasn’t made it a month-long trip.” Yuuri chuckled as he brushed past Viktor. He held the door for Viktor to walk out of the café, and the heat is still at the back of Viktor’s neck. He can feel the sweat already building up as Yuuri stood before him. 

“So, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.” Yuuri said as he stuffed his hands in pockets. Viktor thought it was charming as the musician smiled coyly. 

“Yeah, I’m excited.”

“Do you even know what type of music we do?” Yuuri rolled his shoulders with a laugh. 

“Uh,”

“Alternative Rock is Masumi’s jam. I just help for now since their lead singer dropped out about four months ago. I produce music, and work with a big-name label right now until I get enough money to start my own. I also write songs for some of the people that come into our label.” Yuuri explained as he took off walking ahead of Viktor. Viktor huffed after him so he could keep up. 

“What’s your favorite type of music?” Viktor asked as they stopped to wait for a traffic light. Yuuri mulled it over as he danced on the balls of his feet. 

Yuuri seemed a bit shocked at Viktor's question at first, but responded. “I don’t really have a name for it yet. I’d call it folk I suppose.” 

Viktor scrunched his eyebrows up as they began crossing the lively street. 

“I don’t know what that is. Full Russian blood as you can see.”

“Well, you have had to be in America for a while. You know the Southern states? Country music?” 

Viktor made a retching noise as he bumped shoulders with Yuuri. The musician stifled a chuckle as he stopped at the side of the road. 

“You know, a lot of the music is fantastic. You’re imagining Stadium Country. It has a lot of heart and soul in it. Are you a musician?”

Viktor let out a puff of breath as he glanced at Yuuri slyly. He shook his head as he crossed his arms. This wasn’t a time to bring up his less than satisfactory music past. It was something he tried hard to forget daily as well. He didn’t need his failed music past to muck up what semblance of conversation he was having with Yuuri right now. It honestly to him, the best interaction he’s had in months. 

“You don’t have to a musician to know good music. However, being a musically inclined helps to find the good in bad music.” Yuuri said as he turned to look down the street behind him. His face fell a bit as he examined Viktor once over. Viktor cocked his head to observe the man as well but couldn’t read what his on his mind. 

Viktor was paid to look at numbers, not emotions. He had a hard time reading people during meetings because numbers did the talking. Any other conversation that had to be done was filled out with his charm that luckily, he had cultivated that with his theatrical acting once upon a time. 

But looking at the musician in front of him something deep within his belly stirred. It was the same butterflies he got when he would take center stage and belt for all those ready to hear. He hadn’t sung in front of people in years, _many_ years. However, nothing warped his sense into wanting to sing like the talent Yuuri possessed. The talent he had naturally, and that irked Viktor. 

Irked him a bit more than he thought. He wasn’t upset with Yuuri. He could never be upset with another person for what they worked for to perfect, and what they had just within their hands. 

He was mad at himself, but this wasn’t a rare circumstance. So, he plastered his work smile on his face and held a hand out to Yuuri. The man tilted his head, but accepted his hand shake, nonetheless. 

Yuuri’s hands were coarse with calluses, but Viktor understood now with how well the man played guitar why they were that way. 

“Smile more often. It’s beautiful.”

“I am smiling.” Viktor replied. 

“No, _smile_. Don’t put on whatever mask that is. This is Los Angeles, baby. The place people come to run away from things—to be theirselves. Be yourself, Viktor. That’s all I ask.” 

Viktor dropped his facade at the sound of Yuuri’s voice and his face relaxed. Yuuri returned the smile and turned on his heels to walk the opposite direction. He glanced over his shoulder once and noticed how Viktor stood motionlessly there. He could feel a growling sick feeling pitted at the bottom of his stomach from Yuuri's words, but he pushed them as far as possible away from his concious. 

“Don’t just stand there, muscleman. You need some rest!” Yuuri yelled over the sounds of the city. Viktor lowered his chin to his chest and let out a chuckle. When he looked back up, he didn’t see Yuuri anywhere. He whirled his head around to see if he could catch sight of him, but alas he was nowhere. 

Viktor turned to head back to his _luxurious_ Holiday Inn, and sudden panic struck him.

Which fucking direction was his hotel anyway?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri's set list:
> 
> Idfc by Blackbear
> 
> High (Keep Up) by Bo Baskoro
> 
> The chapter is named after the Civil Wars song. I hope you all enjoyed this little snippet more so into the characters, and I highly recommend listing to the music for these chapters along with the chapter names! The songs I picked to put in here definitely showcase plot details if you're the type who likes to guess what is coming. Thank you for the comments as always and kudos <3!


End file.
